Sunday, October 30, 2011

Lily's deaf. I'm pretty sure she's been deaf for a while, and I just didn't realize it until this week. It's an adjustment -- I guess I don't need to say blueberry as a key word, or wear bells around my ankle. It's made me aware of how much I talk to her, and now I'm trying to use touch much more, rather than voice. But her quality of life is good, and we're taking it one day at a time. I just know how lucky I am to still have her with me at 14. As a little kid at the park said, "That's like 100 years old."

About my heater: I had this DeLonghi oil-filled radiator for years, and loved it. Then it died, and a few days ago I bought this smaller version off Craigslist. It's smaller, more portable, and fits in a cupboard. When it's out, it takes up less visual space -- which appeals to the minimalist in me. (And yes, it gets cold on my boat, but it's California cold, not Alaska cold. You know we're weenies.)

Thursday, October 27, 2011

Nope, I don't feel earthquakes when I'm on the boat. I suppose that makes sense since, um, the boat's not on land. Recently I may have felt an aftershock because the dock sort of shifted and made a strange sound -- I couldn't be sure, though. Just in case you were wondering.

Wednesday, October 26, 2011

Interesting: My new neighbor B was laid off right after he moved aboard the boat he's renting. Just like I was (the day after I moved onto my houseboat three years ago). He seems okay with it because he's so enamored of living aboard. Just like I was.

I have a hunch that this past weekend was the end of our Indian Summer. It feels as if we never really had a summer -- and it definitely feels as if I didn't eat enough meals outdoors the last few months.

Friday, October 21, 2011

One night I was feeling blue, walking along the dock after dropping my rent check off at the harbormaster's office. A neighbor who lives on one of the other docks -- someone I don't even really know -- was also walking along, and we started chatting. Suddenly he handed me a rose, saying I looked like I needed it. I did.

Thursday, October 20, 2011

The saga of the floors continues. First I tried to match the unbleached linen I have on the settees, so went with Benjamin Moore's Smokey Taupe (top), but it had too much pink in it. Then I tried Thunder (bottom), but I don't love it. Paint colors always look different on the boat because of the light, and Thunder just looks too dreary, industrial. I'm not sure what's up next.

Wednesday, October 19, 2011

The S.S. Encinitas and S.S. Moonlight were never actual boats, but were built in 1929 to honor mariners. Located in the beach town of Encinitas, near San Diego, the Boat Houses are rental homes. Click here to read more.

Tuesday, October 18, 2011

The other night D and I were talking about how studies have proven that it's experiences that make people happy, not things. But then I realized that buying a houseboat actually did make me happy, and he said that buying his sailboat made him happy. We agreed, though, that what we were actually buying was a change in lifestyle, a different way of living. So boats don't count as things if you live on them, right?

Wednesday, October 12, 2011

Check out the six Rolling Huts, in Washington's Methow Valley. Each hut has just what you'd need for a vacation: A fridge, microwave, fireplace, sleeping platform, modular seating that can be made into another bed, and WiFi. There's an adjacent portable toilet, and full bathrooms and showers in a barn. Kinda like camping, but kinda not. More info here.

Monday, October 10, 2011

It's good to live simply when things are going well, but when life is difficult it is essential. That's because every object, habit, movement, conversation, undertaking, responsibility, and reaction takes energy.

Sunday, October 9, 2011

Saturday, October 8, 2011

Yesterday in Monterey: Sunshine. Blue skies. Perfect temperature. Blue, blue water. Walks with Lily at two beaches and a park. Geese. Ducks. Coots. A nice lunch. Thrifting. And this, on the steps of the house as I left. (Yes, I talked to her -- until a large buck came along, and they both disappeared into the backyard.)